


She Was a Storm

by FenVallas



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Character Study, F/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 08:13:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3761110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FenVallas/pseuds/FenVallas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in a response to a request on tumblr that asked for Solas topping without him being written as a possessive Alpha Wolf character. </p><p>PWP. Not considered canon to my timeline, but it was fun to write because Solas is flowery and speaks in metaphor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Was a Storm

Solas should have known it would be inevitable from the moment she’d kissed him in the Fade, more real to him than anyone had been in thousands of years.

He was like ice beneath her fingertips, her touch melting away his resistances, leaving him bared completely.

She was a force of nature, but not like a glacier, slow and corrosive, or a volcano, a cataclysmic explosion that burnt and melted everything in its path. Revasel was a storm, something that could be predicted, expected, but never fully prepared for.

Just as he should have expected this. 

From the moment coy glances had turned into teasing words, he should have known he would end up here, her arm tracing patterns down his side, her lips a breath’s width away from his own. With her, the tight thing in his chest coiled, every moment anticipatory, seconds wearing away his resistance as he surely knew they would. 

And in an instant she was on him, lips and tongue, inviting him in with the way her body pressed against him. He froze, but stopped resisting, a million thoughts passing through his mind in the instant before he parted his lips and took her in. 

This was folly. 

It would make the inevitable worse. 

The inevitable didn’t have to happen. 

She might understand. 

Damn the consequences. 

She was everything, everything he had never wanted, but now desperately needed to fill the deep hole within himself that he had filled for so long with dreams and aspirations and the insistent press of duty. Solas crumbled at her touch, the lonely parts of him waking after the long winter of Uthenera, his arms securing her to his chest before he pressed her back against the wall, the knot inside of him loosening. 

Her hand traveled over the dome of his head, brushing the blade of his ear and sending shivers down his spine. The touch was light and hesitant, and so he gave into the urge to pull back and look into her face, seeking to reassure her that he was here.

Instead he found her hands trailing over his features, tracing them in what seemed to be a desperate attempt to memorize them. Her eyes, intensely green, searched his face as if for answers until he caught her hands and held them between their bodies, leaning forward to press a kiss against her hairline.   
What a fickle lover he must seem, he thought, how undevoted.  

He would never have her believe such a thing again. 

Solas kissed her again, and this time it was tender, even as hot purpose stirred his blood, made his skin sensitive with intent. Revasel reciprocated, pulling her hands away to place one on his waist, the other coming to rest on his arm. His own hands hovered, for an indecisive moment, before he reached out and placed both of his them on her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. 

He heard and felt her sigh at once, needing no prompting to press back against him, one bold hand straying lower to grasp the rise of his backside. A sound he barely recognized (strangled pleasured surprise, perhaps?) pressed its way past his lips without his permission, encouraging the smile he could feel her bring to their kiss. 

Her lips broke away in an instant, but she pressed them against his once more but a second later, each kiss more fleeting but progressively more hungry as they descended into something decidedly more primal and not at all unwelcome. It had been so long since he had wanted, things of the flesh forgone for the cerebral and spiritual what seemed eons ago, but now that he had a taste of her… 

As long as she wanted him, how could he ever hope to turn her away?   
He spun them, backing them toward his bed with a speed that seemed to catch her off guard, though she quickly adjusted. Steady fingers tangled in the fabric of his sweater, pulling him with her as they collapsed in a pile on the bed. 

Her hands brushed over his shoulders and down his chest as he supported himself above her, watching the muscles in her arms move as she unfastened the belts about his waist and threw them away. The look of concentration on her face was as beautiful as the flush of early arousal that graced the tips of her ears (he would never admit it, but he could smell it on her, the change in her body, with his keen and ancient senses). 

“Revasel…” It was her name on his lips, a breath as he reached out to brush his fingers over the buttons at the front of her jacket. 

She was a tempting, lovely, creature, but Solas did not fear temptation.   
It had always been his choice to bite the apple. 

Slowly, he opened her jacket, savoring the way her breath hitched, how she tensed against the sheets. He wanted to drive her up and beyond pleasure, to make her writhe and cry out until she remembered nothing beyond the walls of his bedroom. If he could make her forget she was Inquisitor, if he could alleviate the burden of her duty, indulge in her person until they both lost themselves, he thought perhaps he could die satisfied. 

She lifted herself from the bed to shrug off her jacket and toss it away once the last button came unfastened, and he immediately reached out to touch her skin, grunting when she pushed her hands up beneath his woven tunic. Her skin was heated, her palms calloused and strong, hands worthy of his respect and adoration. 

Beneath him, she writhed until he straddled one of her thighs, tugging him forward for another kiss while she rocked against him. Solas’ noise of surprise suddenly choked off into a groan, his eyes fluttering closed as he nipped at her bottom lip, using one elbow to support his weight so that the other hand could explore her body. 

Everywhere he touched, she arched, her body pressing against him more insistently, fluid under his fingertips. Inside of his chest, his heart swelled one thousand times until he could feel it in his throat, his pulse pounding in his ears. She was so marvelously real beneath him, affecting him in ways more profound than his steadily growing arousal. 

He sat back, tossing away his woven tunic and watching her face, finding the hunger there to be truly flattering. Solas knew he was not the man he was in his youth, his body softened ever so slightly with age, but there was nothing but appreciation in her gaze. 

It was somewhat of a shock to him to feel his confidence rise in regards to her deep esteem. He may have preened when he was a much younger man (not because he thought he was beautiful, but because he’d enjoyed the attention), but now his appearance mattered little to him beyond the impression he wanted it to give. That she could find him attractive… He wanted her to find him attractive. 

Revasel’s hands traced down his hips, pulling at the waistband of his pants, her insistence capturing and holding his attention. There would be no more meandering thoughts, all his focus drawn to her, to drawing pleasure from her, to showing her how much she meant to him. 

Solas grabbed her wrists and pushed them to the bed before hooking his fingers through her unused belt loop and slowly pulling her breeches down. The expanse of her legs was beautiful, the slight quiver of her thighs as inviting as her stomach and the still covered swell of her breasts. 

He traced his fingertips along her thighs, their eyes locking for half a moment before she sat up to reach behind herself and unfasten her breastband, grabbing one of his wrists to drag his palm to her chest. Revasel’s other hand cupped the back of his head and guided him to her lips, her kiss as tender as the way she melted against him when he began to palm her, leaning her back onto the sheets. 

“Solas,” she muttered against his lips, her voice so soft, so desperate, that he almost didn’t recognize it. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

It was a confession, an intimate thing that sent shivers down his spine as he was reminded that the Dalish swore their Keepers and Firsts to celibacy. There were so many reasons they had held back, but it had been inevitable regardless, though that did not diminish the power and gravity of the trust she put in him. 

“I will not be as rough as whatever fumbling hands you felt in your youth.” Solas’ lips mouthed an oath against her skin in words and fervent kisses. “I will treat you the way you so justly deserve.” 

Down he went, over the rise of one breast, across the expanse of her stomach to the edge of her smalls where his breath ghosted over her sex before he pressed another kiss to the inside of her thigh.

Here he paused, looking into her face once more to see her flushed, her ears as red as berries, her lips parted into a small ‘o’, a shape of surprise… and anticipation. 

Solas offered her a tender smile and recalled how they had come to trust one another in all things; how she had won his loyalty through her actions more than her words, and once again felt grateful she would find her way to his bed. 

Lifting her hips off of the bed with one hand, he began to tug her smallclothes down with the other, chuckling at her eagerness when she almost kicked him in the face in her rush to get them as far away from her as possible. 

She didn’t stutter or cover her face when he looked at her, parting her legs so that he could lean between them, lavishing her thighs with attention once more before he kissed up. Here, the smell of her was thick and arousing, and Solas was unable to prevent the throaty noise that escaped him just before he leaned down to press a kiss against her clit. 

He had done this before, when he was more lascivious, when women were conquests and he aimed to gain their attention as well as a reputation from how he pleased them. Back then, his sexual prowess had been a point of honor for him. 

This was different. 

Revasel’s pleasure was his goal because he loved her and wanted to make her come. It mattered to him because she mattered, so when he pinned her hips to the bed with one hand and began to rub slow circles against her clit with the other, it was because he wanted to hear her breathy sighs turn into moans. 

When he pushed his tongue inside of her, he delighted in the way she said his name because it meant she felt every bit of the pleasure he so desperately wanted to give her. 

At last she was begging for him, her body writhing beneath his grip, her heels digging into the bedding as she came. Solas watched her from between her legs, the way her face looked, full of pleasure that reminded him of his desperate desire for her – all of her. 

He wanted to become one, to take her against those sheets in the desperate hope that somehow he would not have to leave. The fool’s  hope that there would never be a parting of ways and that one day he could explain who he was and she would simply accept that as a part of him (though not without question). 

It was sentimental of him, and deeply sexual, though that went without saying as he drew away from her, listening to the soft sound of loss that left her lips. It sent shivers down his spine and reminded him all too clearly of his tented trousers. 

But by the living Fade, how she looked at him!

Eyes half-lidded, green and hungry in a way that made his pulse quicken, her legs still spread. Nothing in her gaze was coy, though it was powerful, and sexual, simply… There was no teasing. 

And why would there be? 

Revasel pushed herself up after another moment, forcing him back onto his knees, her fingers reaching out to brush the length of him through the fabric of his linen trousers. It was all he could do to still his hips against the sudden sensation, a hiss of breath escaping through his teeth before she mercilessly disrobed him. A single jerk of her wrists took his clothing, smalls and all, to his knees before he pushed her back against the sheets again to kick the clothing away. 

And then she stared. 

He was tempted to feel self- conscious but would not allow himself to, especially not when she reached out to wrap her fingers around him and pump him once or twice. Pleasure, unexpected and surging, pulsed through him and his world was reduced to her hand and her eyes for one swirling moment. 

He didn’t recognize the sound that came from him then, nor did he quite see himself in his actions. The way he pinned her to the bed with one wrist was an act of a much younger man, a man far more “dread” than the man he was now, worn and faded like the weave of his sweater. 

And yet their eyes were locked, no doubt in his mind that she wanted this, to be laid bare by him, to have him take her hard and fast until they were nothing but a tangle of sweat and skin and heat and sound. 

Who needed to grandstand when the object of your desire drew you to her with magnetic smiles and held you in orbit with her indomitable will? 

Revasel guided her to him with her hand, letting him take her at a pace that suited them both, the noise she made as he entered her prompting a response that vibrated his chest. Solas knew he was done for when he realized that he had forgotten the sensation of being inside of a woman, of feeling her about you; he hadn’t recalled the way her eyes could burn you in the most perfect way. 

With Revasel, everything about this moment was more intense, her thick legs wrapping around him, holding him against her, her lips brushing his face fleetingly but with no small amount of affection.  She was all-consuming, and he didn’t mind in the slightest, desperate to lose himself in her. 

She shifted against him a moment later, her hands bracing against his shoulders, her legs pressing him deep so that his thrusts were short but powerful by necessity. Each time he moved, she made a noise, a grunt, a groan, eventually a cry in that low voice of hers that made his toes curl pleasantly. 

It wasn’t long before they were lost in the rhythm of it, in the sound of one another’s voices and the movement of bodies slicked with sweat. Nothing mattered but Revasel, but driving those noises from her lips as he snapped his hips, her fingers digging into his shoulders, his fingers tangled in the sheets on either side of her head. 

“Vhenan…” he groaned, and whispered to her in his native tongue, promises that would not sound the same in Common, even if he knew their full meaning would be lost on her. 

He promised her that he would never love another. 

He promised her that no matter what happened she would always be his heart. 

He promised her that he would never stop loving her, even though parting would be agony. 

And each word was punctuated by a pant, a groan, a snap of his hips as he drove deeper, harder, just as she pleaded for him to.  

Solas wanted so badly to please her; he wanted too badly to never leave her, to be with her for as long as he could in every way she wanted him. That was why he was here now, pleasure surging through him, staring into her eyes as she suddenly arched and came hard beneath him. 

It was enough to push him over the precipice, listening to his name (the **_wrong_** name, but still **_his_** name) leave her lips like an oath. 

For a moment, the world roared, everything too sensitive, too loud, too perfect, but it settled, and then she was kissing him, claiming his affection and attention as she always did. Even when he should be thinking about other things, she consumed a part of his conscious thought. He wanted her to think about him, too, to be as utterly distracted as he was even when she was focusing on her duties. 

Revasel pulled away, cupping his face with one hand even as he pulled out and lay beside her, her body following his movements. She lay curled against him, her hand resting against his cheek, her brown hair fanned out against the pillow, their legs entwined. 

“Solas,” she cooed, and her eyes closed, snuggling closer. 

He slung an arm about her, burying his face in the crook of her shoulder, her hand brushing against the blade of his ear before she cupped the back of his head and slowly began to stroke a path from the base of his skull to the center of his shoulders. It was a soothing motion, sensate and repetitive. His heart swelled in response to the simple affection more than he would have thought possible even a few months ago. 

For a moment they stayed like that, skin against skin, his chest aching in a way more pleasant than he could possibly describe, his throat tight with emotion. Occasionally, he kissed her shoulder and she would coo for him again, a soft, pleased noise that made something ever-growing and affectionate inside of him flutter. 

“I love you,” she whispered in his ear, “more than I have ever loved anyone in my entire life.” 

Solas’ breath hitched and her fingers paused at the base of his neck, her lips pressing fleetingly to his jaw. From Revasel, that meant more than he could feasibly comprehend, from Revasel, who always put her family first…

For another heartbeat they sat in silence before she spoke again, her words drawing a hiss of breath from his lips, his chest bursting with affection, adoration, he could never hope to express.

_“Ar lath ma.”_

It was enough. 


End file.
